***Author's Note: This is entirely satire. This is stupid and means nothing. Names used are simply coincidences. ***
Once upon a time, on a remote island off the shores of Florida, lived a young girl named Whitney. She was a tall, slender young woman with a mind that could outsmart even the wisest philosopher. Whitney, however, was blind. She could not see a soul, flower, cat, orangutan, chicken fried steak or annoying politician. She could only hear the rush of the waves, and her own voice as she sat alone on the shores of Wallawallawichawa.
"Oh how lonely I am. I can't even tell if anyone is around me. There could be someone ten paces behind me and I would never know. Or perhaps, a wild animal could spring up unnoticed and eat me!" Whitney gasped. But nothing ever did spring up and eat her. Nothing wanted to. You see, Whitney had been alone on this remote island eating shrubberies for a year. She never saw how she looked, she got used to her own stench and she was so green from only eating leafy greens that she looked like a shrubbery herself.
"What am I going to do? Oh my, what am I going to do? I'm alone and hungry."
Suddenly, as if an answer to her moans, an enormous bang erupted behind her. Whitney turned around to see what it was, but alas, she could not see. All she could hear was crackling fire and the smell of smoke. The heat from the fire was coming closer to her, and she new she must run away. But where? All she knew were the confines of the little circle in which she had lived for year. If she ran one way, she might run straight into the ocean and she couldn't swim. If she ran the other way, she could run straight into the grasp of a wild animal. If she ran the other way, she could run straight into the fire and become surrounded. All seemed lost to Whitney. How could she possibly survive?
"Ouch! Let go!" Whitney screamed. A hand had suddenly grabbed her around the wrist and started to pull her.
"Where are you taking me? Let go! Don't you hear the fire?"
The thing that was pulling her wrenched harder and Whitney almost fell. They ran through the sand and into what felt like a cave. The ground was wet and soggy and the air smelled of low tide.
"Where am I?" wondered Whitney allowed, but there was no answer. Whitney stood in the cave wondering what was going to happen to her. Was this some wild beast that had drug her into its home to feed her to its young? The hand that had dragged her so far pushed her down and stuck something in her mouth. Whitney tried to spit it out, but the object was soft and squishy; not something that is easily removed from one's mouth. Whitney's tongue brushed over it. The sensation was strong, almost overpowering. What was this amazing taste? It's sweet, soft texture. Whitney began to chew. She remembered the taste from when she was a small child and her father would take her to the local bakery to get a donut every morning. Why did this creature shove a donut into her mouth? When she was finished chewing, Whitney demanded, "who are you?" But there was no answer.
"I know you are there. Answer me. I demand to know why you drug me halfway across this island into a dank, wet cave." And then Whitney remembered. The fire. The smoke. This, thing, saved her.
"You...you saved me. Who are you?" Still no answer.
"Why won't you talk to me?" Still no answer.
"Please, I'm alone and I haven't had anyone to talk to in a year. You are the only person I have met on this God forsaken island." Still no answer.
Whitney broke down into furious sobs. She was still alone. Her rescuer may have saved her from the licks of the dancing flame, but it hadn't saved her from her lonesomeness. Here, with a donut in her mouth, away from the danger, she was more afraid and alone than she had ever been. Whitney had been abandoned on this island when she took a boat tour with her boyfriend Paul. She had wondered into the trees to use the bathroom, when the tour boat left without her. Whitney called out to the people on the boat, but no one answered. Not even Paul. Surely they would come looking for her. Of course, Paul would notice she wasn't on the boat with him and would come back to get her. She stayed in the same spot hoping that another tour boat would arrive soon, but nothing ever came and Whitney was alone. Whitney continued sobbing, hard wrenching sobs that made the heart hurt. She laid down in the mud and tried to fall asleep, but sleep would not visit her. After a while, a hand rested on her shoulder. Not the same forceful hand that had drug her across the island or the one that shoved a donut in her mouth. This hand was tender and warm. It firmly stroked her shoulder and down her arm. Up and down. Up and down. Until finally Whitney's eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Whitney was furiously shaken awake.
"Wha-what? Who's there?!" Whitney grunted, "What do you want?"
Again, the person never answered her.
"Why won't you speak to me?"
In answer to this, the person dropped a large metal something in Whitney's lap.
"What is this?" Whitney asked, "What, not another donut?"
Whitney felt around and discovered that this metal thing was a plate and it actually had food on it. Whitney didn't know what to make of this person. It was keeping her alive, but it wouldn't speak or interact with her at all. What if it was waiting to kill her? What if she was actually a hostage? She shoved these thoughts out of her head. She was, after all, starving. Whitney scarfed down the food. She had never eaten anything so delicious. It was hot. It wasn't shrubbery!
"This is really good! Is this bacon? And eggs? Oh my, and there's a biscuit!"
After she was done eating, the person took her hand and led her to the entrance of the cave. They walked down to the shore and stood there for a long time just listening to the wave. Whitney felt the person leave her side and quickly come back. He placed something in her hand. Since everything else he placed in her hand was food, she assumed, this must also be food. She took it up to her mouth, bit down, and shrieked in pain. It was a shell. Whitney heard a snort of laughter beside her. "So he does respond," she thought. The person took her hands and brought them and the shell up to her ear.
"I hear the ocean," Whitney commented.
The person then took her hands and rubbed them over the shell.
"It's so bumpy!" commented Whitney.
Then the person took her hand and stuck it inside the shell and made her feel the smooth inside.
"It feels beautiful. I wish I knew what it looks like. Can you describe it to me?" Still no response. "I will make this person talk," thought Whitney.
The person then took her inside the trees. They walked a short distance inside and stopped. Whitney could smell the wet earth and hear the twittering birds. Inside the trees, the sun hardly made it through, so Whitney began to shiver in the light breeze. The person put his arm around her shoulders and continued to walk. When they stopped again, the person took her hands and cupped them around something small and soft. Slowly and tenderly, the person lifted her hands to her nose. The pollen tickled her nose and she began to sneeze. The person let out another snort of laughter.
Whitney inhaled the scent of the flower and let herself float in it's magic. How could something smell so beautiful. The soft, tender petals made her feel so big and rough in their tender delicacy. She allowed the petals to graze her cheek and engulf her in the aroma again. Whitney looked in the direction of the person and asked, "these are such beautiful things. Thank you for showing them to me. After a year here, I never knew that there were so many wonderful things to experience on this island." No answer.
"You still won't talk. You save me. You feed me. You sleep beside me. You show me the time of my life, and yet you will not say one word to me. How shall I know your name?" Whitney said, "I better go. The tour boat might come back."
Whitney shoved past the person and started walking back the way they came. She walked quickly and angrily, and then ran headfirst into a tree. Whitney fell to the ground and rubbed the forming goose-egg on her forhead. She heard pounding feet behind her and strong arms lifting her up and hoisting her on his shoulder. They hobbled out of the trees together and stopped at the edge of the clearing. The person turned Whitney so she was facing him and he took her hand. First, he touched her eyes with her hand. Then he touched both of his ears with the same hand. Whitney sat in silence for a second while the person repeated his proceedure. Finally, Whitney understood. The person was deaf. He took her hand, and placed it on his chest, then to her eyes, and then to her chest. Again he repeated it until Whitney proclaimed, "You've been watching me." He then took her hand again, placed it on her lips, then on his. Whitney immediately knew what it meant, he wanted to kiss her. Whitney shook her head no, and turned around to face the ocean. She could feel the heat of the sun and ocean breeze blow her long hair around. The person came closer to her and placed the same flower from the trees into her hair. The aroma pasted over her and intoxicated her mind. She felt weak in the knees. Then a firm hand tilted her head upward, and lightly kissed her lips. Whitney started to back away, but then she fell into it. They kissed faster, harder. Whitney had never experienced anything quite like it. She was floating in the clouds as the sweet ocean breeze lifted her to heaven. When they parted, Whitney panted, "Who are you?"
The Person took her hand, and wrote P...A...U...L.
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ReplyDeleteso, i like this story, i lived and wasn't terribly ugly ;o)
ReplyDeletethis was a nice option to listening to my fluids lab lecture :)
ReplyDeletehaha this was so cute!!
ReplyDelete